The Miner's Widow
by WizMonCruWil
Summary: A very AU Hunger Games story! After her husband Gale passes away, leaving her alone with two children. When a mysterious Peacekeeper with a scarred past comes to her door, will Katniss find love again? Read and enjoy!
1. Chapter 1: New Peacekeeper Captain

**Chapter 1: New Peacekeeper Captain**

I dig the sharp blade of the shovel into the dirt. The Earth is hard and barely yielding as it scrapes against the metal that invades it. But the soil must submit to me, no matter how much my own heart resists the prospect. For I must bury my husband of twenty years today.

Gale Hawthorne had returned to District 12 a few years after the war. Demoted from his rank as Captain, humiliated and with nowhere else to go, he came to me in my lonely exile in Victors' Village, begging for my forgiveness.

I should not have forgiven him. It was he who built the bombs that killed my sister Prim at the end of the war. I had once closed the door on him forever for this. But I had no one. Peeta - my poor sweet Peeta, the first man I ever truly loved romantically - was dead. The hijacking had plagued his mind enough to drive him mad and take a nightlock pill weeks after Snow's execution. I did not find out until I was released from solitary confinement. Old Haymitch Abernathy, my mentor in the 74th and 75th Hunger Games, was gone too. I buried him here in the Village, behind his house, after booze and grief over Peeta took him at the tender age of 43.

Like I said, I had no one. So I took Gale in. I forgave him for inadvertently killing my sister. And when he asked me to marry him, I said Yes to make him happy. Even if it wasn't what I wanted. I donned Mother's wedding dress to Toast the bread in the fire of my mansion. My wedding kiss was filled with trepidation that life could go on once more. I let Gale take me to bed that night and consummate our marriage...

Wiping the beads of sweat from my brow, I glance back to the house. Two little heads peek out just over the sill. Anna and Bo. It took me fifteen years to fall pregnant with them - a result of my stubborn pride - but Gale wanted them so badly. Anna is five and Bo is three. Carrying either of them was not easy, and my body has changed to reflect my motherhood.

Gale made his living in the mines, just as his father and grandfather did before him. It was dangerous, exhausting work, but he came home to his family - to us - every night.

At least until the collapse.

The collapse of the mine was catastrophic, for a district that had had only 800 people survive the bombs after the Quarter Quell, and then had only a mere 200 return home after surviving the war. We lost twenty miners that day; my husband was among them. District 12's Mayor presented the children and I with a medal, along with Gale's body to do with what we wished.

That was yesterday. And now having dug a satisfactory grave, I must say goodbye to my husband, the father of my children, my first real friend , forever.

I grunt with the effort as I heave Gale's body into the hole and arrange it so he at least is comfortable. Dropping down into the shallow pit, I bend down and chastely peck his lips once. "Goodbye," I whisper. "I'm sorry." Then I climb out and proceed to fill the hole.

* * *

It is a dark and stormy night that night. Thunder roars and lightning dances across the walls, creating its own little show amidst the pounding of torrential rain. I stay up in my kitchen downstairs, clad in only a bathrobe. I know the nightmares would be ruthless tonight, so I refuse to face them. Instead, I only tuck my little ones into bed.

It is fortunate that I hear the knock at a lull in the thunder, otherwise I might not have heard it at all. Who could be calling on me at this time of night? Guarded, I creep to the door and open it.

A flash of lightning illuminates the visitor's face, and I recoil in horror at the sight. Did I just see what I thought I saw? Then the porch light turns on, confirming that the storm and my eyes weren't playing tricks on me.

The young man standing on my porch can't be more than 23 years of age. He has fiery-red hair that tumbles down to his shoulders. A muscled, well-built body under a white-plated uniform.

But the one-half of his face... looks badly burned. Grotesquely scarred. Perhaps he was injured in a fire? It couldn't be a Second Rebellion momento; he's too young. I notice his hands and feet, uncovered by any gloves or shoes, are blackened by scarring too.

But, strangely, the most striking thing about him are his eyes... eyes as blue as a summer sky... and neither one affected by his disfigurement.

"Who... who are you?" I ask warily.

But the young man does not answer. At least not with words. Instead, he begins to make gestures with his hands. I follow the pattern closely. It's been years, but I still remember how Pollux and Castor used to communicate during the war. Sign language.

 _My name is Darius. I am the new Peacekeeper Private for District 12._

"Mute. You're an Avox?"

 _Yes_.

"What are you doing here?"

 _I have been assigned to patrol Victors' Village at nights_.

"Well, you're one lucky Peacekeeper then. It's just little old me. And my children." Even so, this is news. District 12, along with the other districts, allowed more democratic Peacekeepers to maintain order in Panem after the war. But it has been months since any have been assigned to guard Victors' Village. And in fact, I grew to prefer it that way. I have always valued my privacy and wished the same courtesy to be extended to my family. Especially since they are relatives of a Victor, a minor celebrity. And the Mockingjay besides.

 _I mean you no harm, Miss Everdeen_.

Once again, I find myself drawn to Darius's impossibly blue eyes. Despite his outward appearance, his eyes tell me I can trust him.

"It's Hawthorne. Katniss Hawthorne. You are welcome to maintain your post here, Private."

 _Very good ma'am. Goodnight_.

"Goodnight." And I close the door behind me.


	2. Chapter 2: Touch

**Chapter 2: Touch**

Darius's patrols of Victors' Village become a nightly occurrence. He even meets Anna and Bo once before I send them off to bed.

Sometimes, I invite the Peacekeeper Private in for a cup of tea. All the while, Darius converses with me in sign language. Clearly, he can hear me when I verbally speak to me: he's only mute, not deaf. There's a difference. Even so, I feel I want to communicate with him in the way he is most comfortable, out of respect. Darius has been nothing but respectful of me and the children whenever he has patrolled and guarded Victors' Village. I at least owe him something. Before winning the Hunger Games, I originally grew up Seam, and Seam folk always take debt very seriously.

So one night, at my kitchen table, I say quietly to Darius, "Teach me to sign."

Darius blinks and then smiles. _What would you like to know?_

"Start with the basic words. Then we can work up to sentences."

Darius begins by taking two fingers of each hand and striking them together, slashing them against each other in a sharp, downward motion. Then, he points to an egg on the table. I make the connection between motion and object.

 _Egg_.

I copy the rubbing of my fingers, and it almost feels like how I would strike flint against a rock. _Egg_.

"Egg," I echo out loud.

Darius smiles.

* * *

As the weeks go by, Darius teaches me many new signs to add to my vocabulary. Pretty, soon I can sign in simple sentences. I feel there is a little discrepancy between how much I can understand Darius signing and how much I can sign myself, but I chalk that up to retaining a lot of what I learned from Pollux back in the day.

One day, Darius comes over during the afternoon, when he is on break from training in the Peacekeeper Barracks.

 _Today, I am going to teach you a whole new aspect of signing: Tactile Sign Language._

 _What's that?_ I manage to sign back.

 _It is used for people who are both deaf and blind. You sign into the person's hand, so they can feel it and still understand._ Darius offers me his hand. Gently, I take it.

Darius begins by pressing and twisting my palm against his own. Watching our joined hands intently, I slowly but surely begin to decipher the message:

 _I think that you were very brave in the Hunger Games. And the war._

I take a deep breath, and clumsily begin to mold his palm around mine, signing a message back:

 _I think you are very brave, living with all... those scars. And learning to communicate. Even though you're mute._

Darius grins at me, even as his pupils fill with unshed tears. Then, he signs back into my hand:

 _I... think you're beautiful._

The signing stops, but our hands remain clasped. Daring to gaze up at him, my grey eyes lock with Darius's blue ones... as blue as a summer sky...

Blushing, I pull my hand away.

"Thank you, Darius," I whisper. Out loud this time.


	3. Chapter 3: Flirting

**Chapter 3: Flirting**

With all of our sign language lessons, Darius and I become even closer. As I gain more and more practice, we begin to sign to each other fluently and with ease. It is almost like how I used to communicate with Gale and with Peeta, where we could carry on an entire conversation even with no words passing between us. We knew each other that well. I am beginning to know Darius that well, too.

One evening, as Darius completes his evening patrol and I am wishing him goodnight on the porch, he asks me: _The Hob is having a New Years' Eve party tomorrow night. Would you like to come with me?_

Taken aback, I sign, _Yes_ before stammering it out verbally. "Yes, Darius. I'd love too."

The Hob has always had holiday parties, even before the war, but I never attended them. I had to feed my family and social scenes, no matter how light, never appealed to me.

For this occasion, I dig out my old blue Reaping dress. Asides from my wedding dress, it is the fanciest piece of clothing I own. I gave up my dresses from the Capitol and the Games long ago, and I was glad to be rid of them. Too many painful memories. I only leave once I know Anna and Bo are asleep, confident they won't wake while I'm gone.

At the Hob party, Darius looks striking in a pressed suit. Even so, it distresses me to see so many in the Seam avoid him because of the scars on his face. The fact that he is a Peacekeeper doesn't help. The white-armored police force has never fully gained the trust of the people, even after Panem became a democracy. To make my good friend feel like he belongs, I readily accept when he asks me to dance. As we sway to the music, he signs into my hand:

 _Can I ask you a strange question?_

I smirk and sign a finger gun into his palm. _Shoot_.

 _What's your middle name?_

I blink. No one's ever asked me that before. Not even my husband or Peeta asked. _Belle_ , I answer. _Katniss Belle Everdeen Hawthorne. What's yours?_

Darius beams down at me. _Adam. Darius Adam Stevens._

I also buy Darius a drink.

Darius takes a long swig and grins. _Now what would be a good trade for solid liquor like this?_

I laugh. _I can't imagine._

 _How about a kiss when the clock strikes midnight?_ Darius smiles at me winningly and flicks the single braid running down my back. _It's tradition, you know._

Laughing, I playfully nudge his hand away. _No, thanks._

"10!... 9!... 8!... 7!... 6!..." Oh boy, here it comes... maybe I should kiss Darius, to get it over with. Besides, there's no other man who I would like to lock lips with...

"1!"

"Come here, Everdeen," a male voice slurs. And then Thom, an old mining colleague of Gale's who is a few years older than me, pushes me up against the bar and slobbers his lips against mine. I hope he's not too drunk. But figuring he will let me go in a moment, I roll with it and kiss back.

Only Thom does not stop. Pinned to the bar, I feel his burgeoning erection straining against his pants, brushing against the folds of my dress. Thom's one hand squeezes my breast, while the other feels up and clutches the accentuated flesh of my ass. I admit, childbirth has filled me out. Womanhood has made my body more buxom. And perhaps that has caught the lusting attentions of other men. Especially since Gale is no longer here...

Struggling, I try to push Thom away, but he won't let me go. The New Years' Eve kiss has long overstated its welcome, as the other couples have already broken apart. I try to make a sound. I try to sign. Anything. Someone... help...

Suddenly, I feel Thom yanked off of me. Scuffles and shouts. A punch landing. A body hitting the ground. When I get my bearings, I see that Darius came to my rescue, laying Thom out with one good punch to the face. The middle-aged miner staggers to his feet, sporting a black eye and split lip.

"I'm gonna report you to your superiors, freak Peacekeeper!" And he runs from the Hob before I can slug him myself.

Turning to Darius, I smile gratefully at him. I could kiss him right now just for his rescue alone. _Thank you, Darius._

His gaze is witheringly protective. _I will always be here for you... Katniss._


	4. Chapter 4: I Love You

**Chapter 4: I Love You**

Darius is as good as his word. Unfortunately, so is Thom.

The Peacekeepers court-martial their new Private immediately. The action almost makes me wish we were back in pre-war times. Before the war, the common people of District 12, whether Merchant or Seam, had no real power when trying to redress grievances with the Peacekeeper. And even if a case was to be made, the Peacekeepers in those days would never have turned on one of their own. Such was the makings of an authoritarian regime.

But Panem is no longer authoritarian. We are a democracy. And even though Thom's case is horseshit, the Peacekeepers must address the incident.

It is a dark and rainy night as I hurry home from running errands in the Seam. I clutch the brooch at my neck so as to pull my traveling cloak tighter around me. As I come up the muddy, dirt path, I run into Darius, coming down in the opposite direction.

 _I've just returned from Victors' Village, he signs. I've... come to say goodbye._

I am taken aback. _Goodbye? Are they transferring you away?_

 _No. I have been sentenced to death._

Darius grows hazy as my eyes cloud over. Executed? For saving me from being sexually groped, and possibly raped? And all Darius did was punch a man! He didn't kill him!

 _You have made me feel so alive, Katniss. I have felt for anyone what I have felt for you. I will never forget you._ Darius smiles bravely at me, and looks like he wants to do or say something more. But he moves past me to head up the path towards the Justice Building, presumably to his death. Executions here are more commonly done by lethal injection; the gallows from the days of President Snow were taken down long ago.

I watch him go, my eyes swimming with tears. Maybe... if things were different... we...

"Darius!" I call through the rain. He turns back. I smile and whisper three words: "I love you." Even as I also sign them. _I love you_.

He grins and signs back. _I know._

As he turns to leave, Darius suddenly seizes up and keels over into the mud. My eyes widen in fear. "DARIUS!" I make to rush to his side, through the rain. Suddenly -

I am almost to him, just about to reach out and touch him, when a shimmering comet of dust and light falls to Earth amidst the droplets of rain. Then another. And another. They cascade down around Darius's prone body from all sides, blocking my path to him. Then...

Darius's body begins to rise into the air.

The wind picks up. I stumble backwards into the doorway of a shopfront, watching in fear and amazement. Darius's body twists so that he is straight, floating several feet above the ground. Then - a hand reaches out, one of his blackened hands... With a flash of light, I suddenly see every finger and his palm have become porcelain white in color. I shy away, tucking my windswept hair out of my face.

Darius's blackened feet now change in pigment too, their skin becoming blinding white, in another flash of light. Finally, Darius's face, so scarred and burned blasts with light as it... seems to heal...

I watch, jaw hanging slack, hair flapping behind me in the hurricane of winds, as Darius's form begins a soft descent back to Earth. Nestling in the soft mud, he moves no more.

Tentatively, I move from the shopfront and approach. But I shrink back, startled, as Darius's body rises and falls with a great breath. The man shakily rises to his feet, his back to me. Contemplating his hands, he then suddenly turns to face me.

I have one hand clapped to my mouth in utter astonishment. Even as my eyes dare to hope. Could it be...?

"Katniss," the man actually speaks. "It's me." And he takes my hand before I can retreat.

I stare at him skeptically, almost bemusedly. The half of Darius's burned face is gone. In its place is smooth skin and features, only now adding to his handsomeness. With a shaking hand, I run my fingers through the locks of red hair, puzzled, trying to figure it all out. Then, like before, the first time we met, I look to his eyes. Gaze deep into his impossibly blue eyes... eyes as blue as a summer sky.

A triumphant, ecstatic grin takes over my face as recognition dawns. Darius. _My_ Darius.

"It is you!" I cry out, reaching out

Tentatively, I reach out to cup his cheek. Beaming, Darius runs an unblemished paw of a hand through my brown hair, tucking it out of my face. I feel him sign words of love into my cheek. _Katniss. My Belle. My beauty._

Slowly, both of Darius's hands cradle my face, flooding my cheeks with warmth as he tilts my chin upward to meet him. My eyes grow heavy as my palms flatten into his chest. It is as if I am about to push him away, but instead my fingers curl, fisting the fabric there as I pull him closer. I have never... not since my husband...

But Darius's blue eyes are so blue and reassuring, I push my fears aside as we close the gap between us, our lips meeting in a long kiss.

I exhale with a sigh into Darius's mouth, parting my lips for him. He also opens up to me, so that we deepen the kiss, our tongues squirming into each other's mouths as we wrap our arms about each other. A gust of wind picks up around us, even if the rain has stopped, and we fall in love anew. As I kiss this man, and as he kisses me back, I hear the shrieking peal of fireworks whizzing and exploding in the nighttime sky above District 12.

When Darius and I break apart out of our dreamy kiss, he picks me up and spins me around...

* * *

... And it feels like when he sets me down, I am suddenly standing in the kitchen of my mansion, back once again in my mother's wedding dress. _My_ wedding dress. And Anna and Bo are watching joyously and proudly.

Having Toasted the bread, Darius and I yank each other close for a brief, heated kiss, to seal our marriage and union. Taking me in his arms, my new and second husband begins to dance me around the living room.

"I love you, Katniss," he whispers, in that new voice that can make me shiver, it sounds so wonderful. Even so, he signs the same into my hand: _I love you_.

Smirking, I suddenly dip him in my arms. "You," I chuckle, "are a lucky Peacekeeper." And then I kiss him passionately, indecently, even as I sign back into his hand:

 _I know. I love you too_.


End file.
